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by sincerelysobbe



Series: Instagram Love [3]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: I don't know what else to tag this so sorry, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Abusive Father, Moving In Together, No Depiction of Violence Portrayed, Same Backstory as Unattainable and Safe, an epilogue of sorts, this is really all about Sobbe so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23815786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysobbe/pseuds/sincerelysobbe
Summary: It’s been almost a year since Robbe and Sander promised to take it minute-by-minute. Almost five hundred-thousand minutes have been shared between them, not all of them perfect, and that’s fine because Robbe wouldn’t have it any other way. But, there’s something that Robbe needs to ask Sander… and he’s not sure if he’s ever been so nervous.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: Instagram Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624732
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> It’s here! Finally!! I’m so happy that you guys have been so patient with me in terms of the end of the semester wrapping up and continuing to throw my life into complete disarray as I juggle school assignments (and packing up my apartment because I need to do that soon). But, I just want to tell you guys how much I appreciate and love you all and I hope you guys enjoy this epilogue for my first and second (completed) stories.
> 
> Am I aware that this probably has mistakes? Yes, but I’m at an 11:10 PM high from finishing this story so _forgive me pls_.

With his legs dangling over the edge of the wall, not far from where he and the boys always came on Saturdays for skating, music pounded in his ears, loud and heavy beats. It wasn’t the typical David Bowie that encompassed the majority of the past year, the past five-hundred thousand plus minutes, but it was one of Robbe’s favorite artist’s new albums. His legs swung back and forth, his backpack resting against his side, his phone clenched between his hands, but his eyes were focused across the riverbank on an empty wall. 

The mural had lasted longer than any of them expected. 

But, Sander had completed the mural on the wall of some company’s private property so they had painted over it after three months. 

It wasn’t truly gone, as Sander said, simply painted over, lying beneath the paint that they had put on. And, the mural, the one of Robbe’s face inside of an explosion of a heart, was captured in other ways. It was the background of Robbe’s laptop. It was framed in his apartment, and in Sander’s apartment. His own mother, who had squealed of Sander’s talent, had a copy as well and, even though Katrijn Driesen gave her son a stern warning never to vandalize private property, she had a copy of the photo as well. 

So, in other ways, the mural lived on. 

Despite the months since then, the weeks, the _minutes_ , it still felt weird to not see the declaration of Sander’s love painted so clearly on the brick wall, a shout to the skatepark, to Antwerp, to the _world_ , about his feelings and how loved Robbe was. But, if Robbe stared long enough, he could almost make out the vague outline of his own face on the brick. 

His phone buzzed in his hand, bringing him back to the present. 

_Don’t want to freak you out, but I’m right behind you. -Cam_

Robbe turned around, spotting Camille walking to him. She had a thick jacket wrapped around her, a beanie pulled over her head with the tips of her hair shining in a deep red. Beneath her jacket, Robbe could spot the ends of a burgundy sweater and the skirt of her black dress. She was wearing a pair of fleece leggings and a pair of Doc Martens that had to have been one of Sander’s old ones. She had a pair of black gloves and had a paper tray of coffees in her hand. 

Once he pushed his headphones off his ears, exposing his ears the chill of the winter month, she spoke, her breath showing as a cloud, “Here you go.” She handed him a cup of coffee and Robbe took it from here. “It is just the way you like it. I made sure that Simon made it just right.”

“Thanks, Cam,” Robbe whispered. He reached out, taking the tray from her hands so she could push herself on the barrier beside him. Once Camille was settled, she took her own coffee and took a sip. Robbe glanced at the hidden mural before returning his gaze to Camille. “How are things with Simon, by the way?” he tried to ask, nonchalantly. 

The brunette glanced to him, a light blush ghosting across her cheeks that _wasn’t_ from the cold.

Ever since Robbe and Camille found out they went to the same school, they always tried to meet for coffee at least once a week. Simon, a tall black-haired engineering major, was a barista at the campus coffee shop that they regularly met at. Robbe had teased her for her crush on him, but he didn’t find out they had gone out on a date until Simon had mentioned it, eyeing Robbe suspiciously. When Robbe realized that he thought they were together, he couldn’t contain his laughter (and the warmth in his chest) as Camille waved her hands around, her cheeks painted a deep shade of beat red, and practically shouting in the cafe as she shoved the giggling Robbe away, “No, no, nonononono, he’s my brother!” 

Later that night, at their weekly family dinner with their moms and Camille, Sander had found out about the information and tried to get Robbe to spill about where he knew Camille’s boyfriend. But, no matter how much he denied Robbe’s need to kiss him, the brunet didn’t budge. Robbe only complained about it. He had promised Camille, who wanted to introduce Simon when she wanted to, and Sander understood, stopping his relentless torture.

Camille eyed him suspiciously. “Robbe, I am not going to talk about to the man sleeping with my brother about my own relationship.”

Robbe shrugged his shoulders. “I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“I am,” Camille spoke, taking a sip of the coffee. “Don’t worry. If I was unhappy, I promise that I would tell you or Sander or my friends. You know, the people I’m _supposed_ to talk to about things like that.” Robbe grinned, nodding his head before taking a sip of his coffee. The liquid had cooled, no longer the scalding hot it had been as soon as it was put in the cup, but it still warmed Robbe in the chill air of the nearly empty skate park. Camille let out a cough, earning Robbe’s attention. He could tell that she was trying not to grin before questioning, “So, have you asked him yet?” 

Robbe feigned ignorance. “Asked him what?” 

“Robbe,” Camille sighed, grinning from ear-to-ear. 

“I thought we just agreed not to talk about each other about our relationships-”

“This is a completely different set of scenarios!” Camille squealed, shaking his shoulder with her free hand and Robbe laughed, shoving her hand away. “Simon and I are only going on two months casually dating. You are considering moving in with your fucking _soulmate_ , who just also happens to be my brother.” The girl swung her legs around so her feet were dangling off the edge as well. “And, it’s not like you don’t live at his place already. You spend the night at least three days a week-”

“Four.”

“ _Four_ and you have a drawer over there, a section of his closet, and pretty much a second of everything over there anyway,” Camille continued, shrugging her shoulders. Robbe glanced at her and her hazel eyes met his brown ones. “You aren’t the only observant one, Robbe. Besides, do you think that Sander and I don’t talk about you from time-to-time?”

“Yeah,” Robbe remarked, grinning over at her. “Just as I’m sure that Sander always tries to check up on you and your _boyfriend_ that I’m not allowed to talk about.” Camille laughed lightly, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “But, as you know, with Aaron and Moyo both moving out and our lease ending at our apartment, I am considering it…” he trailed off, staring down at his coffee.

“Why are you hesitating, Robbe?” Camille questioned, a concerned look on her face. 

Robbe glanced over to her. “I just…” he trailed off, staring over at the mural. “I guess, that… I’m just worried that it’s going to be too much too soon. You know?” He glanced over to Camille, who nodded her head, and he continued. “I know that it’s crazy and I’m just imagining it, but I know that’s been a rough month for Sander and… I just don’t want to be too much.” 

Christmas was coming up soon again and November had proven to be a tough month for Sander. 

His meds were in need of reevaluation, leading him to be with his therapist more frequently. The fact that his meds were being revaluated made Sander certain that he was going to fuck things up with Robbe by slipping into another episode and Robbe knew it wouldn’t. When Sander got too lost in his own head, Robbe held onto him, clung tightly to his shoulders, promising him minute-by-minute with every waking breath and touch of his hands. The trial against Estelle had finally concluded, the girl charted off to jail, and the entire length of the trail had taken a considerable toll on the platinum-haired artist. He stayed home more often, posted fewer paintings and photos, and his fans noticed. 

And, those reasons didn’t even _include_ Mr. Driesen, Sander and Camille’s biological father. He hadn’t heard much about Mr. Driesen, just what he had to Katrijn and later Sander, and he had hoped, practically prayed, that he never had the opportunity to meet him. But, then, his father had shown up at Katrijn’s house, on his knees begging for the woman to take him back, and it was only Robbe clinging to Sander like a koala, curled into his embrace, that stopped him from getting into a fight with him. Thankfully, the police had taken him away and he never came back. 

“I don’t think it would be too much,” Camille spoke up, dragging Robbe from his thoughts. She paused, briefly, glancing over at Robbe before adding, “When you’re around, Sander stays grounded and he always feels so much better when you’re with him. He feels safe with you, Robbe, and I think it might be the first time that both of us have felt that way in a really long time.” She trailed off, briefly, and Robbe nodded his head. “If anything, I think moving in together might make the harder moments a little easier to bear. For both of you.” 

Robbe nodded his head. “Thank you,” he replied. “I needed to hear that.” 

“Of course,” Camille spoke, a small smile forming over her face. “You know I’m always here to kick your ass in the right direction.” She glanced across the water, her eyes finding the building with the empty wall. The tips of her lips turned up further. “You know… I know that Sander painted that mural when he was in a really bad place… but I still think that it’s one of the best pieces that he’s ever made.” 

“I don’t know that…” 

“No, seriously,” Camille spoke, seriously as she pointed a finger at him. “When it was up there, you could see the amount of love that he poured into it. Even though I understand why someone wouldn’t want a gigantic head in a heart on the side of the building, it’s still a shame that they covered it up.” 

“At least I can finally show my face around the skate park again,” Robbe chuckled, missing the mural with every fiber of his being. Even though the number of stares that he had gotten in the months with it up, and the months since, he had loved seeing it up there, Sander’s artwork so public and loud and loving. Camille seemed to know because she giggled and Robbe’s phone rang between them, _Rebel, Rebel_. 

“It’s like he knows,” Camille spoke as Robbe reached for it. 

_Hey, are you still coming over tonight?_

Robbe smiled. 

_Of course._

_I haven’t seen you in a few days._

_I miss you._

_I miss you too._

_What time are you coming over?_

_Thirty minutes?_

_Sounds good. I’ll see you soon._

_I’m going to hop in the shower._

_I’d wait for you, but I’m covered in paint._

_I’ll see you soon._

_I love you._

_I love you._

He could feel Camille lean towards him, the smell of her flowery perfume enveloping his senses, and she chuckled, shaking her head. Robbe backed out of the messages, spotting briefly the photo of him and Sander at a gallery opening, before locking the screen. He turned to Camille, who was swinging her feet and trying to hide the knowing look in her eye. “So,” she spoke, raising a challenging eyebrow that almost made her look like the female version of Sander. “Are you going to ask him tonight?”

Robbe’s eyes turned to the vacant, mural-less wall, before he spoke, his smile tugging up his lips, “Maybe not tonight… but, definitely soon.” Camille nodded her head, pursing her lips. “The lease isn’t up for a few more months and I could always move in with Milan again… I just don’t want to accidentally pressure him into a decision that he isn’t sure about.” Robbe turned, getting off the barrister and picking up his skateboard that he left on the bench. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Quit Robbe. You don’t have to walk me home.”

“Too bad,” he remarked, shrugging his shoulders. She rolled her eyes, getting down from the barrister. She threw her bag over her shoulder and Robbe adjusted his backpack. He held out an arm for her, which she slipped her arm through, and the two of them headed out. 

* * *

_I’m here._

Stopping in the lobby of the apartment building, Robbe fished out his keys, finding the spare mailbox key that Sander had gotten him ages ago (“I always feel so bad having to leave you,” Sander had groaned after having to run down to the lobby, only to find Robbe in his clothes and cooking dinner) and fished out the handful of letters stuck inside. The man sitting in the lobby waved at him as he moved to the elevator stepping inside and passing Nick, who yelled “hello” at him and bolted out the front door. 

As the elevator ascended to the sixth floor, Robbe could feel his nerves bouncing around in his stomach as he thought over Camille’s words. When Robbe had made the comment about a week ago, in the coffee shop after one of their classes, where they had met with Jens, Camille had practically tackled him out of his chair and Jens hadn’t been surprised, grinning from ear-to-ear. With Aaron finding a place with Amber and Moyo moving closer to home with Noor, the two of them had talked about moving into an apartment together, possibly even with Milan, but Jens had also admitted to thinking about the possibility of moving into Lucas’s apartment with him and his roommates. 

And, that had gotten Robbe thinking about moving in with Sander.

And, his brain hadn’t stopped working on it since then. 

Since the official beginning of their relationship, the one where Robbe had promised to take life minute by minute and Sander promised that it was the two of them one-hundred percent in every universe, starting when Sander showed up in the lobby of his apartment with that promise, Robbe had practically been at his apartment or with him more and more frequently. Robbe was in his Instagram lives, together with and not spending the night at least once a week, meeting with their families for dinner every other week, and called each other every night. By the time that they had hit their third month of dating, Robbe already had a section in Sander’s closet and Sander had a drawer in Robbe’s bedroom.

Even though it had only been a year since their relationship began, even though Robbe had survived over twenty years without formally meeting Sander in person and being in his life, he couldn’t imagine a life where Sander wasn’t in his life anymore. The artist was all-encompassing and the best kind of consuming that Robbe had felt before. Within a month, Sander was teaching Robbe how to draw and take pictures and Sander was learning how to do tricks on a skateboard (though, he really just liked photographing Robbe), playing the same video games as him. 

The elevator slowed to a stop, the force of the stop weighing on his shoulders, pulling Robbe from the depth of his thoughts. Shaking his head, slightly, he pushed the thought out of his head. He wanted to move into Sander, but he wanted to bring it up at the right time, when things were a little calmer. Stepping out of the elevator, he searched for Sander’s apartment key, attached to a David Bowie key chain that Sander had gotten him for his acceptance into medical school. 

As soon as he reached Sander’s apartment door, he unlocked it with a defined precision that had come from all of his visits to the apartment. As soon as he stepped inside the apartment, he shut the door behind him with enough force to let Sander know that he was in the apartment. Once the light echo died down, he could hear Sander’s call from in the bedroom, the sound of his own name, and Robbe called back, “It’s me!” Even though Estelle was in jail, the lingering paranoia was something Sander might never be able to fully heal. 

Still standing in the small foyer, Robbe stepped out of his shoes, nudging them neatly in place beside Sander’s haphazardly placed Doc Martens. He placed his keys on the small table that he had set up, next to the framed photograph of their first official photo. He hung his jacket on one of the hooks, next to Sander’s leather jacket, and his beanie on top of it. As he placed his backpack on the floor beneath it, he heard the light footsteps moving to him and turned to find Sander standing behind him. 

“Hey,” Sander grinned, moving to him, his arms already raising to cup Robbe’s face. 

“Hey,” Robbe managed before their lips pressed together. 

Relishing in his boyfriend’s kiss, Robbe wrapped his arms low on Sander’s waist, pulling him closer against him as they swayed together. One of Sander’s hands slipped into the curls at the nape of his neck, his other palm warming on his jaw. Sander’s lips moved against his open, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside like he always did, and Robbe couldn’t help the need to pull him closer. 

“How was your day?” Sander questioned, pulling away from him and staring down at him over the tip of his nose. 

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head at his boyfriend, who simply grinned fondly at him. “I can’t wait for the semester to be over,” he admitted, shyly. “And, then I can’t wait until the end of next semester so I can graduate.”

“And, then off to medical school.”

“Yep,” Robbe replied, grinning up at him. “One step closer.” Sander grinned down at him, stepping closer to press their lips together. It was brief and fleeting and when they separated, Robbe tried to pull him a little closer to him for another kiss because Sander was about as addicting as anything Robbe had ever tasted before, loving and open and home, but the artist pressed a finger against his neck and stopped him. “Sander-”

“Not yet, dear Robin,” Sander teased, grinning at him with a wide, bright smile that went from ear-to-ear. The blond ran a hand through his hair, briefly exposing the dark brown roots that were longer than Robbe had seen yet, and moved into the kitchen. Robbe knew that it was only a matter of time that he would walk in to find him and Zoë with dye in their hair, talking intently over a glass of red wine or tequila. 

Robbe let out an exasperated sigh, his eyes automatically finding the form of his boyfriend, who was half bent over, searching in the drawer that he always kept the take-out menus. Sander was dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans that curved to his thighs and his legs. The legs were tucked into a pair of white socks which meant that he was intending to go out in his Doc Martens. And, he was wearing a dark green hoodie that had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Robbe blinked; that was _his_ dark green hoodie. Despite the fact that it swallowed Robbe’s torso, it somehow managed to fit Sander perfectly, like it had been bought for him.

“What?” Sander questioned, flipping through the menus in his hand. Robbe blinked out of his thoughts, long enough to spot the smirk that spread across his boyfriend’s lips. “Like what you see?” the artist teased. 

“Of course, I do,” Robbe remarked, smiling at him. “I just realized that’s my hoodie is all.” Sander smiled at him as Robbe stepped closer, wrapping his arms low on Sander’s waist and stepping so his chest was flush against the artist’s back. Robbe placed a kiss against the mole on his neck and burrowed his face into the flesh of his skin, relishing in him being so close. “And, I was just realizing how much better you look in my hoodie than I do.”

Sander let out a chuckle, turning to press a kiss against Robbe’s forehead. “I’m sure that I can argue with you about that,” he whispered, nudging him with his nose. Robbe glanced up at him, finding half-closed bright green eyes staring down at him. Sander half-twisted to press their lips together, fleetingly, briefly, lovingly, before he turned back to the menus in his hands. “Are you hungry? We could order some food and hang out for a bit. I think there was a new video from that YouTuber you like whose name I can’t pronounce.”

“We can always watch a movie,” Robbe offered, chuckling. 

“Nah, that would take too long,” Sander remarked. Robbe glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow as Sander turned towards him. “We’re going somewhere after we eat.” 

“Okay,” Robbe smiled, a little confused. As Sander flipped through the menus, Robbe studied his facial expressions, trying to figure out what he had planned. The blond raised the menu from the pizza parlor from the first time that the two of them had hung out at the apartment and Robbe nodded his head in agreement before he questioned, curious, “Where are we going? Do we have plans with your mom or Val and Soph that I forgot about?”

“Nope,” Sander informed him, shaking his head. He reached for his phone, trying to twist out of Robbe’s grasp enough to get his phone, but the brunet was unwilling to let out of him for just a second. After several minutes and one half-hearted pout, Sander reached into Robbe’s pocket and pulled out his phone. “Sophie has been having a lot of morning sickness. The doctor says that it’s normal, but wants her to take it easy so they’ve been staying home a lot more.” Robbe nodded his head, making a mental note to text Sophie next week. “And, Mom’s wrapping up on her latest contract. It’s just going to be the two of us.” Sander managed to wiggle in Robbe’s arms, turning around and wrapping an arm around his neck. “We’re going to celebrate.”

Robbe blinked. “Celebrate what?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Our one-year anniversary isn’t for a few more weeks.” 

There was a bright grin that quickly encompassed Sander’s features, soothing away all of the bags beneath his eyes and the wrinkles that had been work with the stress of the past few weeks. It was the kind of grin that lit up his face and him in all the ways that Robbe loved to see, and make, over and over again. Sander’s artist hands soothed back the curls of his hair that were getting a bit too long and Robbe tilted his head back so the blond could smirk down at him, one eye shutting in a wink, as he spoke, slowly and seductively, “That, my dear, Robin, is the surprise.” 

With one final peck against his lips, Sander unlocked Robbe’s phone and dialed the number. As the blond launched into a conversation with the pizza parlor owner, Robbe moved into the living room, starting up the television and trying to find something short. When Sander joined him, snuggling into his side, they decided on an hour-long show since it would likely take thirty minutes simply to get the pizza delivered. 

* * *

After devouring the pizza in front of them and leaving the box on the coffee table for them to throw away later, Robbe was practically dragged to the garage where Sander’s motorcycle was parked. Sander dropped his green backpack across Robbe’s chest, pushing one of his helmets over his head and clasping it beneath his chin before placing the second helmet over his own head. Then, they were off, Robbe clinging to his boyfriend’s waist and the motorcycle vibrating between their knees, as they sped into traffic, through the city and outside of it.

“Where are we going?” Robbe questioned again, having to shout over the loud drum of the motor even while stopped at a red light.

Sander turned, grinning at him before pressing a light kiss against his lips. They were the only ones at the light and it was still glaring a bright red at them. “Patience, my dear koala,” he teased and Robbe responded by gripping his waist a little tighter. Sander grinned, pivoting back as the light turned green, and they were off again. 

It was only once they turned the corner, starting on a winding path through large trees, that Robbe realized where they were going, the eventual destination that he had practically memorized from all his trips with Noor and the handful of trips with Sander in the year since. But, seeing the warehouse on the horizon in front of him, past the trees and beneath the bright moonlight, brought about confusion. Sander pulled the motorcycle beneath the shadow of the tree, turning off the engine and half-turning to Robbe. 

“Surprised?” Sander questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Robbe chuckled up at him. “Did you go out of your way so I wouldn’t recognize where we were going?”

“Yes,” Sander spoke, proudly. Robbe rose from the motorcycle, his legs still wobbly from the motor, and unclasped his helmet which Sander quickly took, placing them both on the motorcycle. “I did.” Robbe shook his head, reaching out to take Sander’s hand, interlocking their fingers together smoothly and flawlessly. 

“What are we even doing here, Sander?” he questioned. “It’s not even a day that the others are here.” 

The blond grinned over at him. “I know. But, when I was here on Saturday, while you were with your mom, one of the guys asked me to come and take pictures of some of the things before they get moved.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out a small key. “He even gave me a key in case I wanted to come on a day where no one was here to get better lighting and I decided that I wanted to bring my own muse to help me out.” 

“Sure,” Robbe spoke, rolling his eyes and feeling his heart glow in his chest. Sander wrapped his free arm around Robbe’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest, and the brunet raised his chin, making it obvious that he was staring at his boyfriend’s lips. “I’m sure that you’re going to get a lot of work done.” Sander grinned again, that bright grin, before slotting their lips together. 

“Don’t forget your mask,” he whispered, barely pulling back from Robbe to fish out two black masks from the pocket of his leather jacket. “There might not be any spray painters in right now. But, there’s hardly any circulation in there so you can never be safe.” As Robbe moved to grab one of the masks, Sander pressed a kiss against his lips, long and needy, before pulling away to unlock the door, putting his mask on with one hand. With the key, it only took Sander a few seconds and Robbe bent down to help him push open the door enough for them to slip inside. 

Once they stepped inside, Sander moved to flip on the light, bathing the warehouse in muted white light that made it all a little more visible. With the lights partially on and the vast space void of any other bodies, the entire place felt empty and abandoned, as though all of time had stopped in the warehouse. The floors and the walls and the trucks were decorated with graffiti art, meticulous designs, and their signatures, and Robbe couldn’t help looking at every one of them. 

Now that they were safely inside, Sander immediately set to work. 

Materializing his camera from the bag on Robbe’s back, he moved around the warehouse in a pristine, orderly direction. When Sander got behind a camera or in front of the camera (or, he thought with a shiver, in bed), the artist focused on what he was doing, giving it his complete and utter focus, his 150%, and not coming out of it until it was complete. With how much Sander apologized for his precision focus, the brunet wondered briefly about what Britt had thought about it but Robbe loved seeing him like this. He could see the dedication and the pride that he put in his craft, all forms of it, and Robbe couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

As Sander moved from piece-to-piece, from one truck to the next, from a wall-painting to a floor painting and back again, Robbe followed him around. He made a conscious decision about where he stood, not close enough to be in Sander’s way, not far away that he had to move that far should Sander need him, out of the way of the shot with each piece. With each new artwork, each new piece that represented the inner workings of someone’s mind, Robbe’s eyes would travel over it, take in it’s vibrant or muted colors, but his eyes would quickly return to Sander, who would be crouched or bent over or tilted to get the perfect shot. 

Yeah, Robbe decided. He loved seeing Sander like this. 

Once all of the artwork was documented and accounted for, one and a half SIM cards and nearly two hours later, Sander snapped out of his focused hazed and stepped towards Robbe. With one simple movement, he took the green backpack off his shoulder, placing the camera in it and resting it against one of the sides of the pillar that Robbe was leaning on. Then, in one fluid and graceful movement, Sander wedged himself between the concrete pillar and Robbe’s back. They tilted and swayed before finding their way to the floor, Robbe wrapped up in his boyfriend’s embrace, holding his joined hands in his own. 

“Thanks for coming with me,” Sander spoke, whispering against the shell of his ear. Robbe opened his eyes and tilted to look up at him. “I know that it’s not the most glamourous thing, you know, just standing around and watching me take pictures… but, you said that you liked watching me, so I thought I would bring you along.”

Robbe smiled up at him, grinning up at him, as Sander looked down at him. “I don’t just like watching you work. I _love_ watching you work. There’s a difference.” 

The blond grinned, pulling down Robbe’s mask, then his own, before pressing their lips together. Robbe twisted in his embrace to deepen their kiss. Somehow, the kiss is a mixture of sweet and searing. Sander’s hands framed Robbe’s face, keeping him closer, and ran his tongue across Robbe’s lip to get his mouth open. Robbe clung tightly to his own dark green hoodie beneath Sander’s leather jacket, opening his mouth to Sander, and bringing him closer. Sander pulled away, his breath heavy, his eyes half-closed and staring down at him with a sure look. 

“You never told me,” Robbe spoke up. 

Sander smiled, his lips a little pink still. “Told you what?” 

“What we were celebrating,” Robbe admitted. Sander blinked down at him before a small smile was rippling across his face. “Come on, Sander,” he spoke, pushing himself up. The blond let him shift around, grinning from ear-to-ear as Robbe turned, draping his legs across his thighs. He pushed his hand beneath his leather jacket, his palm finding the gentle heartbeat that was still present beneath the hoodie, and a gentle smile pulled across Sander’s features. “I know that I haven’t gotten our first kiss or the official start of our relationship,” he added. “So, what are we celebrating?” 

Sander smiled at him, his hands dropping to Robbe’s waist. “I’ve just been thinking about how much things have changed, for me,” Sander spoke. Robbe raised an eyebrow, silently trying to get Sander to elaborate which he did without much else. “A year ago, I was just looking forward to the opportunity to connect with Noor again, to gain a friend outside of Britt again,” Sander continued, his green eyes scrunched up the way it was when he would smile so wide. “And then, I show up here to take all these pictures of art pieces and people, to try and reclaim what I lost, then I look across the room and see this beautiful, brown-haired man in a sweater a size too big and a mask covering his face and my entire life changed.” 

Robbe smiled at his boyfriend, leaning forward to press their lips together again. Sander gripped the back of his head, tugged a little at the long strands of his hair, and opened their mouths with a simple movement of his lips. Their chests were flush together now, so were their hips with Robbe practically on his lap, but Robbe held him a little tighter before pulling back, “I think both of our lives changed that day.” 

“Yeah?” Sander questioned, sounding like he didn’t believe it.

So, Robbe nodded his head, echoing out, “Yeah.” Sander smiled down at him again. His eyes were watery and Robbe reached up to cup his face, running the pad of his thumb across his cheekbone, catching a stray tear that slipped down his cheek. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” the blond whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” He pressed a fleeting kiss to Robbe’s lips before pulling back to stare at him. “I’m just so happy with you.” 

“I’m so happy with you too,” Robbe whispered, knowing that Sander needed to hear them too, to know that Robbe meant every word of them. 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sander was leaning forward again, pressing their lips back against each other heatedly. He tugged Robbe further onto his lap, his hands dropping down to rest on the curve of his ass. Pushing his legs between Sander’s back and the concrete wall, Robbe was able to get his legs tightly around Sander’s waist, pull him even closer. He pulled at the stands of Sander’s hair, tangling his fingers between the strands, and smiled when Sander mirrored the movement, one hand returning to Robbe’s hair. 

When Sander broke the kiss, his lips were flushed and he was a little out of breath as he breathed out, “I wish you were with me all the time.” There was a nervous look that briefly crossed Sander’s face, his eyes darting across Robbe’s face, and his arm tightened low around Robbe’s thin waist. The brunet mirrored it by briefly tightening the loop of his legs, to let him know that he was here, and leaned down to press their forehead together. 

Sander nudged their noses together purposely before looking up at Robbe, who whispered, “I wish I was with you all the time.” It was a fact, one that Robbe had known nearly their entire relationship, since that week that Robbe spent at Sander’s place and had trouble returning to his own bed. “It doesn’t matter where we are or what we did, I just always feel happier when I’m with you. I always sleep better with you…” he spoke, running his hand across the worn fabric of the hoodie, Robbe’s own hoodie that was protecting Sander from the cold. “I love waking up with you in the morning and falling asleep with you at night, wearing your clothes, watching you paint, and-”

“Move in with me.” 

Robbe blinked, his mind halting his thoughts, moving to process the words that Sander had just spoken, so easily, so freely. There was a determined look in his eyes as he stared up at Robbe, his hand tightening on his waist, in his curls, and Robbe felt his mouth drop open a little as he breathed out, “What?” 

“I’m serious, Robbe,” Sander spoke, serious, about as serious as Robbe’s ever seen him. “I know that it’s barely been a year since we’ve started our relationship, since we’ve met even. But, I’ve known that you were the one since the minute that I saw you here in this warehouse. And, if I didn’t know it then, I knew it once I saw you laughing in the living room with Camille.” Sander’s green eyes darted over Robbe’s face before returning to his eyes. “I love your friends and your mom and your weird chocolate and cookie sandwiches and most importantly, I love you, Robbe.” Even though it had been almost a year, even though he had heard it (and felt it through little things because Sander was big on showing, not telling) a thousand times, Robbe’s heart fluttered in his chest. “Move in with me, Robbe.” 

Robbe let out a breath. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Sander questioned, his eyebrows raising. 

“Okay,” Robbe repeated before his lips were attacked by Sander’s hungry onslaught of kisses. He was used to the intensity of Sander’s kisses, how searing and uncontrollable that they could be, but this kiss felt on another level than his usual kisses, spinning in his ribcage and sending him flying into the air. But, Robbe kissed him back, pulling him closer in an attempt to steer some control as Sander’s hands pressed a fiery path across his body. Once Sander’s kiss ended, a brief ceasefire of their lips, almost panting into each other’s mouths, Robbe managed to get out, “Have you been talking to Camille?”

“Huh?” Sander questioned. “No, why?”

“Because I have been trying to work up the nerve to ask you the same question,” Robbe spoke, a grin forming on his face. Sander chuckled, his hands wandering feverously beneath the warm fabric of Robbe’s brown jacket, pressing a kiss against his jaw and his neck, his teeth pulling at the chain that was barely visible beneath the collar of his clothes. “I was going to ask if I could move in with you after our lease was up and she was helping me,” he admitted. 

“Ask me,” Sander whispered. 

“Huh?”

“ _Ask me_.”

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “Sander Driesen,” Robbe whispered, pressing their foreheads together and staring into his bright green eyes. A wide smile passed over Sander’s face, scrunching up his eyes again and making them shine brightly. “Can I move in with you?”

“Yes,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against his lips. “Always,” he promised with a kiss to his jaw. He placed another one against his neck before burying his face into the shoulder of Robbe’s jacket. Robbe wrapped his arms tighter around his shoulders, squeezed at his waist with his legs, and held him tighter, ran his hands through his hair. “I love you,” Sander whispered into the flesh of his neck. 

“I love you too,” Robbe whispered, pressing a kiss against the mole on his neck. He ran circles along Sander’s back, drawing patterns against the leather, before he pulled back, cupping Sander’s face in his hands. There was that happy, watery look over his green eyes again and Robbe felt the need to press a kiss against each of his eyelids, laughing as Sander giggled beneath each kiss. 

“Come on,” Robbe whispered, pushing himself up with Sander’s shoulders. The blond watched him curiously as Robbe held out his hands towards him to pull him off the floor. “Let’s go home,” Robbe whispered. The blond stared up at him for several moments before he grabbed the green bag. Then, he reached for Robbe’s hands, holding them tightly and letting Robbe help him to his feet. 

Once he was standing up, Sander wrapped his arms around him, bringing Robbe against his chest as he walked the smaller man backward towards the door, back towards the outside, back towards _home_. Even as Robbe walked with him, burying his face into the flesh of Sander’s neck, he could feel Sander’s hands bracing his back, keeping him safe. 

“Let’s go home,” Sander echoed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see what I get up to and/or scream about, I'm on Tumblr: @ravenbrenna09


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